Nothing Left To Learn
by hazelmom
Summary: Tony and McGee face a deadly surprise. One shot.


9

A/N: I've been out of circulation for a while. Work has been horribly busy. Plus, I felt like I had no new stories to tell. I thought I would see if my muse was still talking to me. It feels pretty good to try and construct a story again.

Sorry if I haven't been around for people's lives or their stories. Happy to read anything you think I missed. Also want to say thank you to Chelsea for checking on me and inspiring me to get back to it and Lia for keeping me up to date on instant messaging.

Sheila

**Nothing Left to Learn **

The kid was jamming the barrel of the sig so deeply into McGee's temple that he grunted in pain. In that moment, DiNozzo locked eyes with his partner. It was the wrong thing to do. DiNozzo needed to stay focused on the kid. Instead, his concentration broke and he looked into the one pair of eyes in the room that didn't show fear.

McGee was angry. The kid with the gun and DiNozzo were terrified, but the man with the gun barrel digging into his head was pissed. DiNozzo had always been a keen student of human behavior, and McGee was one of his most fascinating subjects. He was seconds from his head being exploded into a thousand pieces and all McGee could focus on was the fact that he'd screwed up. Admiral's kid. There was never any room for error. An angry McGee would create his own solution and DiNozzo couldn't have that.

DiNozzo jerked his head imperceptibly. "Seaman Balfour, stay focused on me!"

"I'm not going to jail!" The kid's hand was trembling and there was a tear trailing down his cheek. "It wasn't my fault! I didn't have a choice. It was him or me!"

"It was an accident," DiNozzo said nodding. The hallway of the kid's apartment complex was empty but someone could walk out of an apartment at any time. He had to corral this situation fast. "That's good! That's going to help."

Balfour's face reddened. "No jail! I can't do it! I can't do it!" He tightened his hold around McGee's neck. DiNozzo couldn't risk another glance at his partner, but he could sense the tension in the man's body. McGee was seeking a solution and DiNozzo couldn't afford it. McGee was brilliant, but this was not where he excelled. This was DiNozzo's kind of game. McGee might have the kind of brain that could play chess with computers, but DiNozzo was the one who could play chess with madmen.

"I'm in charge! It's just you and me!" The message was for McGee as much as Balfour. Balfour was probably right about killing the sergeant. Kid seemed afraid of his own shadow. An intimidating superior harassing him like he did was probably enough to send him over the edge.

"No, I'm the one in charge! Put down your gun or I'll kill your partner!"

"Can't do that, Seaman. It's not protocol."

Balfour's mouth twitched. "Then he dies!" The barrel poked McGee even harder and McGee struggled to hold his composure. McGee's left arm hung at a weird angle telling Tony that this was probably how Balfour took his weapon.

"Calm down, Balfour. Just be easy. We're going to work this out. Okay?"

Balfour shook his head sharply. "There ain't no solution other than me getting out of here! I'm not going to get railroaded by you people! It's not fair! I had no choice!"

"I want to hear all about it. I'm a good listener. You know who else is a good listener? McGee. You got a gun on a guy who's probably the best listener I know. No one is better at understanding than McGee. Drives me crazy sometimes, you know. And he's a guy who understands what it's like to be harassed. I mean, he could tell you stories. You really picked the wrong guy to take this out on."

Balfour shook his head. "Lies! You don't care about me or my story. I'm just another case."

"Oh no, you're not." DiNozzo's voice was slow and low. "The minute you put a gun to my friend's head, it became real personal. I'm going to do whatever it takes to fix this. You hear me?"

"Then let me go. Let me go and everything's going to just fine." DiNozzo could see the sweat glistening on Balfour's face. The gun was probably getting slippery in his hands too. The slightest pressure on the trigger and McGee was a dead man.

He knew McGee was trying to catch his eye. He was ready to drop or ram the kid into the wall- anything to end this. But it wasn't the right moment, and DiNozzo couldn't see it happening where the gun didn't split his head in two. His probie had just become more dangerous than the kid's sweaty trigger finger.

"Just relax." Again, his message was for McGee. "We got time. Tell me how this needs to go down."

The kid looked at him, eyes blank. There was no real plan. He was too desperate to concentrate.

DiNozzo put his free hand in this air. "We go into your apartment. Sit down. You put down your gun. I put down mine. We talk for as long as you need."

Balfour frowned and shook his head. "No. I can't trust you. You'll still arrest me."

DiNozzo swallowed. Dealing with this kid was worse than a hardened criminal. He was too unpredictable. His fear was so big that there was no way he could logically weigh his options. "Let's call a lawyer for you. They can advise you. How about that?"

Balfour blinked and DiNozzo almost groaned in relief. The kid was finally thinking. Something was making sense. He took that moment to lock eyes with McGee. His message was clear. No theatrics. This was a situation to be massaged. All he got in return from his partner was rage. McGee didn't even have the good sense to be mad at Balfour. He was undoubtedly focused on how this was his fault and his fault alone.

"I got a number for JAG. I'll dial it, put the phone on the floor, and push it to you. McGee can pick it up for you. Just ask for an emergency legal advocate. They'll tell you what to do."

"You'll listen to what they say?"

DiNozzo sighed. The kid was 20 years old. First offense and he kills a man. He hadn't read the manual on deviant behavior. Didn't know how to anything but self preserve. Still probably believed in the tooth fairy. He nodded. "I'll do whatever they say."

He carefully reached in his breast pocket and pulled out the phone. He performed the entire call with one thumb, something he usually would only trust to a forefinger. The phone rang and he bent down slowly to push it toward Balfour. He stole one last look at McGee, and his message was clear. No freelancing.

An apartment door swung open behind DiNozzo and the whole thing went south. A woman on her phone with a baby in her arms came out oblivious to the situation. Tony turned to warn her, and McGee used the element of surprise to twist out of Balfour's grasp. Balfour shouted something unintelligible and Tony dived for the woman and her child. He pushed them to the ground and swung around, his gun extended to find Balfour pointing shaky gun at McGee from a few feet away. McGee was between him and Balfour, and DiNozzo didn't have a clear shot.

"Out of the way!" he howled, certain that McGee was about to catch one right in the chest, but McGee didn't move.

"Don't do it, Balfour!" McGee yelled and a gunshot ripped through the hallway.

…..

DiNozzo walked into the bar. It was an old servicemen's tavern a few miles away from the office, lights dim and carpet dirty. There was a smoking ban in D.C. bars, but the years of smoke had so permeated the wood that the stale smell hit him as soon he inhaled.

His eyes searched the room and found mostly grizzled men in their 50's and 60's sitting at tables with longnecks or shot glasses. He looked to the long wooden bar, worn and scratched, and caught the eye of a bartender drying glasses. The man gestured with his head and DiNozzo spotted his partner at the bar, his head resting on his extended right arm. His hand hung loose over the edge of the bar, a hospital bracelet still tightly secured to it. He spotted a cast on McGee's left arm and shook his head.

A couple of Marines at the end of the bar watched him closely as he sidled up next to his sleeping partner and looked him over. A round purple bruise from the gun on his temple stared up at him. He looked up at the bartender. "How long has he been passed out?"

"Right before I called you."

"How drunk is he?"

The two men at the bar started laughing. "Tell him, Mort," one of them called.

"He got two shots of whiskey in before I noticed the hospital bracelet."

"Lie!" "Tell him the truth, Mort. That broken wing was impossible to miss."

Mort shook his head at the hecklers. "The man had a right to drink, but I didn't figure on the pain medication playing a part."

The old birds slapped the bar and howled in laughter. DiNozzo glared at the bartender. "What the hell am I missing?"

Mort put down the glass he was drying. "The kid here made some phone calls before he started napping."

"Three of them." "They were real entertaining." The men couldn't control their glee.

Tony had to work to hold his tongue. "What kind of phone calls?"

Mort sighed. "First one was to the boss. Whoever that is. Informed him that he was quitting, effective immediately. That started some sort of argument that ended with your friend telling him that he didn't know nothing and hanging up."

Tony winced and let out breath slowly.

"Then he called NCIS Director Vance. Left a message telling him that he was quitting and that he was the worst agent the service ever had."

"That wasn't even the best one!" Cackled one of the barflys.

"Tell me," Tony said tersely.

"Final one was a message to SecNav. Resigning once again and saying that he was an embarrassment to the service."

Tony squeezed his eyes close.

"When he was done with the phone calls, he took out his badge and gave it to me. He said his gun had already been confiscated."

"How did you know to contact me?"

Mort shrugged. "He ain't my first drunk. When he passed out, I scrolled through his phone and took note of the number he called the most often. That's usually family."

"Where's the badge?"

Mort chuckled. "I'm ex-military intelligence. I know how bad it is to give a badge away to a civilian. I also know that bruise on his forehead came from a gun. Kid isn't in his right mind today." He looked over DiNozzo's shoulder. "Hey Orlando!"

An African American man stood up and ambled over. He held out a hand and shook DiNozzo's. "Are you his partner?"

"Yup."

"Army CID. I took temporary possession of the badge." He fished it out of his pocket and handed it over.

"You filing a report?" Tony eyed him warily.

"No. He's just a guy having a bad night."

"Thanks."

A phone sounded at the bar. Mort looked at the screen and handed it to Tony. "It's your partner's phone again. Vance is the name that keeps coming up on the screen. We didn't want to answer it."

Tony took a deep breath and answered it. "Director…Yes, this is DiNozzo…Just got here…I have just been made aware…He had a rough day. Mixed pain meds and alcohol…Yup. Bad idea…Ah, he's sleeping at present…Well, if the boss said we're taking custody of him for the night, then we undoubtedly are…No, I have the phone now. McGee will not have access to it for the rest of the night…No more phone calls to SecNav. I promise…Director, I just want you to know that he didn't screw up today. Balfour surprised him as he was turning a corner. Kicked him in the arm. It could've happened to any of us…Thanks. He'll appreciate your support…Gibbs is coming? Okay, we'll wait."

He put the phone down and sat next to McGee. "Mort, can I get couple of glasses of water?"

DiNozzo shook Tim's shoulder gently. "Wake up."

Bloodshot, green eyes popped open and stared at him. "Tony?"

"How you doing?"

Tim raised his head and scanned the room. "I passed out."

"You did, but you managed to create some mischief first."

McGee narrowed his eyes as he searched his memory.

"Phone calls to the boss, Vance, SecNav."

McGee grunted. "I resigned."

"To anyone who would listen."

Tony pushed a glass of water and a straw toward him. "Drink."

Tim looked at him. "I meant it."

"I know."

"20 year old kid stole my gun and blew his brains out right in front of me."

"I was there. Drink some water." Tony pushed the glass into his hand.

"Rookie mistake."

"Yeah, it would never have happened to me," Tony murmured.

Tim stared down at the water. "Is that true?"

"Probably not. I don't know. That situation has never presented itself. Plenty of other screwed up situations have though. Drink."

Tim sucked water slowly through a straw and shuddered. "His face was gone. Bone and blood were all over me. He was just a kid."

"He was a man," Tony said softly. "A young man who gave into his fear and killed another man. He could've reached out for help but he didn't. And he couldn't face what he did. Too immature. Talking to him, I felt like he was a teenager. Had no business being in the Navy."

Tim tried to hold the glass with his bad arm, but he grimaced and re-adjusted with his good arm. "I didn't see him until he was kicking me."

Tony shook his head. "No reason to expect he was lying in wait for us outside his apartment. It was lucky. He tackled you and grabbed the gun. I should've been with you, but I wasn't. I stopped to check my phone. Wanted to see if Gibbs had called. If I would've been there, I would've been on top of him before he could've pulled it on you."

Tim searched his eyes. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not," Tony said shaking his head. "I stopped to check my phone. You should've stopped with me or I should've left the damn phone alone. Either way, we both were lazy today. That's where it went wrong."

McGee closed his eyes and Tony could see moisture at the edges. "I feel like the kid was a victim."

Tony sighed. "He was a hostage to his fear. The murder probably was accidental. He was looking at maybe involuntary manslaughter. 5 to 7 years inside tops. A man could've done that standing on his head. Mistakes were happening all over the place. Letting him into the service. Putting him with a sergeant who was a bully. The kid not reaching out when things got rough, and then you and I walking in like we didn't have anything left to learn. We're all a bunch of dummies."

"I've been saying that since day one."

The familiar voice startled them both, and they swung around to find Gibbs standing behind them. McGee let out a breath. "You're like a cat."

"A cat who doesn't know anything."

McGee frowned and Tony smiled. "The fellas here tell me that this was the gist of your conversation with the boss."

McGee groaned.

"The follow up calls to Vance and SecNav were particularly precious," Gibbs added.

"I don't know what to say."

Gibbs patted him on the back. "Save it for the critical incident debriefing tomorrow."

"Boss, I resigned."

Gibbs snorted. "You're eight hours off having a gun to your head and then witnessing a kid blow his head off in front of you. I would expect nothing less than a little acting out."

McGee stared down at the bar. Gibbs reached over and turned his head toward him, examining the perfect bruise on his temple. "Balfour was a desperate man."

"We weren't expecting it," Tony said.

"Guess I still have a few things to teach you two bozos."

"Guess you do, Boss," Tony smiled.

"Let's pack up, McDrunk Dialer, and get him to my house."

Tony froze, mouth open and McGee blinked. "Boss, did you just McTony my name?"

Gibbs grabbed McGee's phone and badge and headed for the door. "Took me the whole drive to come up with it."

Tony threw back his head and laughed as he slung McGee's good arm over his shoulder and dragged him off the barstool.

….

The End

9


End file.
